An Assassin's Rage
by BIG Z1776
Summary: It is 1815, the War of 1812 is over, but a new one is just on the horizon. A young new Assassin Apprentice must take the reigns and fight for liberty and freedom. But the Templars have a new plot, a plot to destroy everything the Assassins stand for. Can this young Assassin fight off doom for his nation, uphold his oath to the order, and be true to himself and the one he loves. OC
1. A Thief

**Alright, here we are, the first chapter of my latest story, An Assassin's Rage. This will deviate from history as we know it. But will be as true to the times and people as I can. I have been researching this stuff on the internet for several weeks now, getting advice from college professors as I go. Some characters are fictional, some are real people with a slight creative spin on them, like Davy Crockett, Andrew Jackson, and others.**

**Every chapter will have a prelude with responses to every review that was written before the chapter was posted by name of the reviewer. I like it when a writer responds directly to me, I figured I would give the same courtesy to everyone else. **

**Please Read and Review, I really, really, really want to know what everyone thinks. If it's good praise then I know what to keep doing, if it's criticism I know what to work on. So please review.**

**Chapter 1: A Thief**

_**London England**_

_**May 12, 1825 **_

_**Fires roared all around, American cannon balls impacted everywhere and everything in sight. The city streets burned and boiled and raged. Screams from men women and children echoed over the booms of thunder and the cracks of cannons. Lightning bolts streaked from the heavens themselves as if God himself were raining death down onto the very heart of London. **_

_**Gabriel bobbed and weaved through this torrent, soaked with rain and blood. The orange glow painted he and his robes in a dark ghostly light that made him seem as if he were the Angel of Death, come to collect his toll. His mind raced with anger and fury, coupled with a set drive and a singular target, the source of all this bloodshed, all this misery. The Templar Grand Master, somewhere he knew the coward hid, waiting for his chance to escape to safety. But this Assassin wasn't going to let him escape, not this time, not again. This time, Gabriel would kill him.**_

**Davenport Homestead, now Township of Davenport**

**April 24, 1815**

_Things have changed; the winds themselves seemed to have shifted. What was once a colony is now reborn as a free nation. I helped to build to this nation, this land of the free and home of the brave. It was the Assassins, we saved America from ruin, from the Templars. But the Templars have returned far stronger, and far more dangerous than ever before. I must stop them, or freedom itself will die._

Connor's thoughts ran clear and smoothly as he meditated on the Cliffside overlooking the small harbor where his long time flagship, the Aquila, was moored peacefully, its smooth curves and elegant lines looked as dazzling as the day he first set sail aboard the fine vessel. Now, she was not alone, nine other merchant ships lay at anchor right outside the harbor entrance while smaller fishing boats sailed around, trolling the rich waters for cod, lobster, haddock, and crab. The chanting and singing of many sailors barely reached his ears as the men partied in the tavern on the beach where dozens of houses now stood. The docks had become a town in and of itself now home to at least a hundred men women and children. There were professions of all kinds represented in that little town, everything that a fleet of ships needed to sustain itself. Connor had continued finding settlers whose skills and talents served to help them find a home here in the growing town of Davenport.

Inland however, a great many things had happened to increase both the size and wealth of the growing community. Several farms had begun to grow, some growing corn, some wheat, and the occasional orchard growing apples. A few new carpenters had showed up, a stonemason had brought his skills to the new town, a schoolteacher had opened up a schoolhouse overlooking the harbor, store owner had opened a general store near Norris's home and mine, and a gunsmith had set up shop next door to the inn set up by Oliver. Among all of this new settlers arrived, setting up homes of their own, bringing their families with them, most set up farms, but many went to work for the already established businesses. At last count Connor had forty-seven families living in Davenport, totaling three hundred and eighty two men, women, and children. Over sixty buildings had sprung up, pushing back the forest that Connor had hunted in and protected during his youth. It gnawed at him sometimes at what once was, but deep down he always this would happen, once he started to help this community grow others would come. But protecting it all was quite a hassle, for that, he had his Assassins.

The Order had grown considerably, new recruits and volunteers had strengthened the American Assassins. A great many skilled Assassins now resided in North America, from New Orleans to Quebec, from Boston, Massachusetts to San Juan, Puerto Rico. But that still hadn't curbed the Templar threat which now cast a dark shadow on this time of prosperity. Templar agents had been spotted in the Americas in ever growing numbers. Not a week passed without a sighting of a Templar agent in one or more cities or towns. It had Connor worried, these Templars weren't the ordinary crop, they were rich men, men of influence. Most were merchants, shipbuilders, industrial giants, men who had influence, money, and power. I must know what the Templars have in store this time.

"Connor? A moment?" a familiar friendly voice asked from behind him politely.

"Ah Gregory, what is wrong?" Connor asked the young blacksmith.

"There has been reports of a thief running around the forest. I have not personally been robbed but others such as Ellen's Tailor shop have suffered some theft."

"A thief, I will take care of it, thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"Thank you Connor."

Gathering himself the old Assassin stood up, allowing himself to stretch before he walked towards the stables to grab a horse and ride off to take care of this thief. He selected a black stallion and spurred him on to the forest edge, if this thief were still nearby he would find him quickly. His many years of experience easily picked up a strange trail hidden in the brush where no one should have been. It snaked along the creek, going upstream towards Maurice's mine.

The footprints weren't in normal settler's shoes but instead from moccasins, poorly made ones at that. So it was either a desperate Indian or a settler responsible. Connor allowed himself to dismount and began carefully tracking the thief's footprints. His white Assassin's robes weren't the best choice for this mission but he had never had a problem before with stealth, like back in the days of revolution and war. He and the Assassins had done their part in the War of 1812 to keep America the promise of freedom it held alive, such as killing a few British Generals every now and then, raiding convoys both on sea and land. For all that Davenport had not been scratched, for this they were all thankful and grateful and showed it.

"Where are you?" Connor quietly whispered as he examined another fresh set of tracks off the beaten trail.

The bush was teeming with life of all kinds, just like the day he had first visited this land. But at the moment, not a critter was stirring or making noise, a clear sign that he was near his quarry. So he continued following the trail that was well concealed beneath the underbrush of the backwoods. It wasn't long before he reached the cliffs of the northern section of the territory. It was there he saw his quarry.

Connor quietly crouched in the thick bushes as he observed his thief from a safe distance of twenty feet. He had thought he would be looking for a man with nothing but covetous greed in his heart but instead he found himself examining what couldn't have been but a young boy of fourteen years. He was dirty and filthy; his blonde hair was smeared with dirt and ash from his tiny campfire that had a freshly skinned rabbit cooking on a spit. He was sound asleep under a hastily constructed lean-to that was made of green sticks and leaves, so he couldn't have been here long. He wore buck skin clothing that was barely big enough for him, on his feet were ragged moccasins, and on his belt was a tiny knife, probably barely able to cut open a deer.

_This is our thief? He is but a child_, Connor whispered in his mind, trying to figure out what to do. _I cannot bring myself to kill him, and I can't throw him in a cell. But I cannot allow him to continue to steal, someone may get hurt or killed._

Connor rubbed his chin thoughtfully examining the sleeping boy, it wasn't long before he decided to take some kind of action. Perhaps he could just find his relatives and take him home, if he had one. He quietly stood up and walked towards the boy and stood over him. Then, Connor sat, allowing his old bones to creak slightly in response. He crossed his legs calmly and looked at the rabbit sizzling on the boy's campfire. It was practically done cooking and its smell was quite appealing. Connor gingerly took the rabbit off of the fire and drew his hidden blade withdrawing it from its scabbard. He sliced into the tender meat and reached out with a strip of the hot food to the boy.

"It is unwise to fall asleep as your meal cooks," Connor spoke with confident wisdom.

Immediately the boy awoke, startled and went to draw his blade. He had the knife pointed at Connor in an instant, his breaths were deep and rapid and Connor chuckled as he heard the beating of his heart from six feet away. Then he seemed to be thrown off when he saw the steaming meat on a long knife right in front of him.

"What…why…" he panted, lowering his rusty blade shakily.

"Take it, is it not your meal?"

Connor watched the dark blue eyes of the child goggle at him as he took the meat off of the blade and blew on it a little before slowly eating it. He kept his eyes on Connor the entire time. He still held his blade in hand ready to defend himself.

"Thank you," he said softly.

"What is your name?" Connor asked again as he handed the rabbit over along with his own blade.

"My name?"

"Do you not have a name?" Connor replied, cocking his head to the side curiously.

"My…my name's Gabriel, Gabriel Dare," Gabriel responded.

"Why are you here, alone?"

"I…I followed the road, I just wanted to find a place where I could make a home," Gabriel stumbled out, making up every word as he went along.

Connor waited a moment gauging the young lad in front of him. He then leaned forward and hissed, "Before you decide to lie you should know whether you are speaking to a fool."

Gabriel felt his heart skip a beat as the large man in front of him easily caught onto his hastily made lie. Gabriel was no fool, he saw the blade in his hand, the bow and arrows on the man's back, a tomahawk and a sword on his belt, and a pair of double barreled pistols in holsters. The white robes of the mysterious man were intimidating and aboding. But the most frightening thing was how his eyes seemed to be shadowed under a white textured pointed hood that reached down with the sign of an eagle on the tips. He knew this was a dangerous man.

"I…I needed a place where I could find things like shoes, blades, clothes, or food. I don't…I don't have a home sir," Gabriel hung his head guiltily, flinching in preparation for a blow from the man he just admitted to being a thief.

"You say you do not have a home?" Connor replied gently.

"Yes…sir, my ma and pa were killed in a fire in Baltimore, during the British attack there during the war."

"You have no other family?" Connor asked again, leaning forward.

"None sir," Gabriel responded again.

Connor looked at the boy closely, he was not lying this time. He had learned to read people's emotions long ago and what he saw now was sorrow at a long suppressed memory, a painful memory. The loss of everything he knew and loved. This was something Connor knew a great deal about. Connor looked out into the woods, seeing the smoke of the chimneys and hearing the noises of the townspeople. He remembered how Achilles had taken him in and trained him when he too was barely this child's age. He recalled reading of how every Assassin's job was to take in those like him and this boy and train them to become better men and women than what they could have become. It was these memories that drove Connor's next words.

Getting up Connor reached his hand down to Gabriel.

"Come."

**Next Chapter Preview: A new Apprentice, a new time, an old enemy.**


	2. The Apprentice

**As promised, another chapter with a third coming right after it, I do mean right after, I decided to split the two because it was way too long.**

**MMAssassin: Glad you are enjoying it, here's Chapter 2.**

**Chapter 2: The Apprentice**

Davenport

April 24, 1815 

Gabriel didn't really know what to think at first when Connor had invited, no ordered him to come with him. Being fourteen years old, all sorts of wild possibilities flashed through the young rogue's mind. The most prevalent of these was that Connor would turn him in to the town sheriff. That was not a possibility that Gabriel really wanted to come to fruition. He had been stealing from the town nearby, and he had seen that there was a militia and a sheriff present and had easily avoided them, but now he was caught, by Connor. Although basically compromised he stayed behind the white hooded man who led him towards the big house on the hill that overlooked Davenport.

"Who…who are you sir?" Gabriel asked hesitantly as the Connor started ascending the stair case that led to the front door.

"My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton, but you can call me Connor."

"Okay."

"Come inside Gabriel, there is something that I wish to speak with you about," Connor politely said as he opened the door and held it open and motioned Gabriel inside.

Gabriel furrowed his brow and stood outside uneasily as Connor again motioned for him to enter. Connor now slid his hood back revealing a worn yet strong Indian face. His hair was still jet black and somewhat long and unkempt tied behind his head at its longest point. Sensing the situation to be safe enough he entered, and Connor shut the door behind him as he went inside. Connor walked in and sat at a table with several chairs inside along with some china, candle sticks, and a white table cloth. Gabriel took a seat safely out of arm's reach and listened as Connor rested his elbows on the table.

"What is it that you wanted to…speak with me about?" Gabriel cut right to the chase.

"You say that you have no family correct?" Connor questioned him thoughtfully.

"Yes, I am no, I mean…I have no one," Gabriel stammered.

"So you have no home, no one to teach you the ways of men," Connor said again, making Gabriel nod, _is he offering to adopt me?_ Hope began to rise in his throat as Connor spoke again, being confirmed by his nod, "You were able to evade the town watch, for several nights, along with the hunters and trappers in the woods, fairly impressive."

"Uh…thanks? I guess," Gabriel swallowed hard, feeling that he was in trouble again.

"I have a proposition to you Gabriel Dare. Should you accept, your life, your whole world, will be forever changed."

"I uh…I'm listening sir," Gabriel said back, sitting up straight and listening intently.

"Very well, I offer you a home here in this place. And I also offer you the chance to be trained as an apprentice. What you will do will help to preserve freedom and free will. I am offering you the chance to become what I am, an Assassin. Should you accept you will be trained and pushed far beyond what you thought your limits ever were, then you will be pushed even farther."

"An Assassin? As in a man who kills anyone in their path?" Gabriel choked out, now fully afraid of Connor, yet intrigued at the fact he was being offered what he hadn't had for several years now, a home.

"It seems there is much to be taught."

Three Months Later

Indeed there was much to be learned. Gabriel had become Connor's own Apprentice, an Assassin in training. He had lived in the Davenport Mansion learning all there was to know about the Order, its past, its tools, its weapons, and its Creed. He had learned the art of parkour, or free running, first of all. He began to see everything differently. Cliffs no longer seemed to daunting faces of rock. They were now an avenue that very few souls dared to travel. Trees were now his friend, their branches now became a place of refuge and hiding, a highway above the earth. Buildings were now just an easy way of travel and shortcuts to avoid prying eyes and accomplish his goals.

He had learned to fight as well, he honed his skills with every weapon imaginable; swords, tomahawks, knives, pistols, muskets, bow and arrow, rope darts, and all sorts of benign items he could now use to kill. But he had yet to take life, and so he was extremely anxious to use these skills. But what had sharpened most of all was his mind. Hours were spent reading, studying, learning of ancient history, math, and phycology. It was something that Connor had repeatedly drilled into his young Apprentice. Knowledge is the Assassin's supreme weapon, all the weapons and skills of the world are useless unless you know when and where to use them. It drove Gabriel rather mad, and he and Connor would argue constantly, greatly straining the elder Assassin's patience. Gabriel would normally storm off to run in the forest and hunt or fish to clear his mind. So after about an hour or two he would return and continue his training with a clear head.

His body had grown and matured quite a bit since he had started training. Every day he grew stronger, faster, and smarter. He had turned fifteen a few weeks ago; at least he thought he did. But no celebrations were held, instead his training had gone as usual, getting up before the sun rose, and running for several hours until breakfast with the other Assassins living in Davenport was made and ready. Then came training with stealth around town, trying to sneak up on Connor or one of the other more mature Assassins. Then after a few successful attempts he trained with all manner of weapons, sparring with other Assassins and Apprentices. Finally, the day ended, and Connor sent him to read and learn until it was time to eat then sleep. And so the process went on, rain and shine, for three brutal months.

"Gabriel," Connor spoke as soon as the elder man walked into the study where Gabriel was reading his latest assignment, a book on European styles of warfare.

"Yes Connor?" the younger Assassin stood to his feet out of respect for his Mentor.

"There is something that I want to show you, come to the basement," Connor ordered, turning and walking to the hidden basement where everything dealing with the Assassins was kept.

Gabriel was not far behind, and soon entered the secret chamber as Connor stood before the practice dummy that was normally used for practice or to blow off some steam. Instead of the normal padded bag and sticks being all there was to see Gabriel saw a brand new white hooded robe.

"Your training is nearing its end, soon you will have to learn from your experience, as I did," Connor spoke confidently as Gabriel stared at the set of robes, "Put them on."

Connor stepped aside, allowing Gabriel to fully take in the Assassin robes now before him. Like all Assassin robes it had an all-white hood with the pointed tip in the middle that was characteristic of the Assassin Order. Like Connor's it was somewhat textured into the form of an eagle at its tip. The uniform was made out cotton, wool, and leather. Thin cotton made up the undermost layer, making the material comfortable and light. A wool and cotton coat was next, it too was white with a few black accents on the buttons, the cufflinks, and on the coat tails. There was a bit of red trim on the collar and on the very edges of the coat tails. Silver buttons kept all of it together and red arm bands kept the lose sleeves from being too loose yet not too tight. A white leather pad went on top of the coat and connected itself to the coat's buttons and tied underneath his armpits to provide some manner of protection glancing blows and made the Gabriel's shoulders look a bit wider. This too had black trim with red Assassin symbols in the pointed ends of the shoulder pads. Around all this went a red sash serving as a belt underneath the coat. Pinned to this was a steel Assassin symbol about the size of Gabriel's palm. Brown leather breaches were put on to be over light but tough moccasins that were perfectly suited to speed, agility, and stealth. Lastly were a pair of new fingerless gloves made of deer skin. There were no scabbards, holsters, quivers, or pouches on the uniform Gabriel noticed as he finished tying the last part of his brand new uniform tightly in place. Neither were there the prized weapons of the Assassins, Hidden Blades.

It took a little over five minutes to finish putting on the robes, and when he was finally done Gabriel looked himself over and looked to see that Connor had gone. Gabriel took a deep breath, hoping that he had done everything right, and walked up the stairs to see his Mentor.

"I see they fit well Gabriel," Connor said from the seat of the desk in the Mansion's office where Connor handled the estate.

"That they do Connor," Gabriel said, smiling now from ear to ear as he saw Connor nod to him.

"Good, I have one more thing for you," Connor spoke as he placed a box on the desk and slid it to him, "An Assassin is never complete without his weapon," Gabriel opened the box, revealing two black leather padded Hidden Blades, "put them on Gabriel."

Connor watched as Gabriel slid each blade onto his wrist and tightened them securely and strung the sting controlling the way the blades slid in and out. With one smooth flick of his wrist Gabriel smiled as he saw the steel blades slide out smoothly and perfectly.

Connor stood before his Apprentice, and placed both hands on his shoulders, "Welcome to the Brotherhood Gabriel. You are now an Assassin."

"Thank you, Connor, I won't let you down."

Gabriel's mind was swimming. He was now an Assassin! After months of training he now wore the white of the Brotherhood and cloaked his face under the pointed hood. It was all too much, truth be told he was speechless. It was a day that he had been looking forward to since the day he had become Connor's Apprentice. The tales of Altair, Ezio, and Achilles had been a shining light for him to look towards as he went through the difficult training. The stories Connor told of the Templars made him furious to think that those men had wanted to control his country, and kill George Washington. But now, he had taken his next step towards joining the ranks of great men and women who had fought for freedom, and in many cases died for it.

"Good," Connor nodded, turning to the window, "Then there is something I want you to do Gabriel."

Now Gabriel perked up, his first mission!

"I am ready Connor."

"You are familiar with Washington D.C.?" Connor asked.

"Of course, it's the national capital, the center of the American government."

"There have been several Templars reported to be present in the city."

"So?" Gabriel asked, "Isn't it expected for Templars to have some presence at the centers of power for all nations?"

"Normally yes, but one our contacts has said that these Templars have showed up within a month of each other from overseas, these Templars are said to be men of great power and influence," Connor mused.

"What would you have me do?" Gabriel stepped forward, confident that he could do whatever it was that was asked of him.

Connor looked over at his Apprentice and thought a moment, "Go to the city, learn all you can of what the Templars have planned. Do not confront them, there is a time for killing and a time for listening. We must wait and listen and watch."

"Yes Mentor," Gabriel responded, placing his right hand across his chest and bowed his head.

"You will need to find our contact in the city, a Senator from New York by the name of Elliot Wallace."

"Will he be expecting me?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes, I sent word to him several days ago you would be coming. Gather what you will need and go, I'll have a horse saddled up," Connor ordered.

Gabriel nodded and walked quickly down the steps back into the basement and round the corner into the armory where Connor stored all manner of weapons. He believed himself proficient with any weapon thanks to his training and immediately set about choosing what weapons he should take. The first thing that the new Assassin chose was one of the unique Assassin Tomahawks that Connor had used in his youth. There were several hanging on the wood rack and so he slipped it under a metal studded belt. He then chose a sword, the one he liked the best was the cavalry saber due to its light weight and speed. He tied its scabbard to his left side and then looped a cartridge box over his head that had about twenty rounds of shot and ball already loaded. Then Gabriel snapped on a pair of holsters to accommodate a pair of flintlock pistols and looped a bow and a quiver of arrows over his head and on his back. Then he snatched a pouch of rope darts and pouch of poison tipped throwing knives. With that he was ready.

He quickly ascended the steps out of the basement, pulling the lantern handle to close it behind him. Gabriel couldn't help but stop by a mirror and admire himself_. For a group who lives in the shadows the Assassins sure know how to look good,_ he thought as he then took both hands and gently pulled the white hood up and over his head, shrouding his face, and finishing the Assassin look.

"Are you ready?" the voice of Connor asked impatiently.

Gabriel whirled around and saw his Mentor smirking at what he saw his Apprentice doing, "Yes, I'm ready."

"Take this, you might need it," Connor said, passing him a jingling pouch containing coins and dollar bills for the journey to Washington D.C.

"Thank you," Gabriel said, and followed Connor as he left through the front door where a tan horse was standing, waiting for his rider.

He easily mounted the horse, adjusting himself in the saddle and grabbed the reins.

"Gabriel," Connor spoke up, placing a hand on the horse's nose to keep it in place, "I have trained you as best I could, but I will not be there to help on this journey. Don't do anything foolish and get yourself killed."

Gabriel smirked and held out a hand to Connor who shook it firmly, "Don't worry Connor, I'll be back soon."

"Then go, and may the spirits be with you," Connor said, patting the horse as Gabriel spurred himself forward.

Gabriel was confident as he rode on the road south towards Washington D.C. This was his chance to prove himself, see the world, and meet new people. And going to the center of power of his nation wasn't a bad thing either. After all, he was an American.

**Next Chapter Preview: On the road to D.C.**


	3. Road Trip

**Here's the next chapter as promised folks.**

**Chapter 3: Road Trip**

Three Weeks Later

May 20, 1815

Maryland, just outside Washington D.C.

The weather was perfect for riding, and having a good horse beneath him meant that he had made over four hundred miles since leaving Davenport for Washington D.C. The sun was high in the sky, the skies clear, and things were alright. Gabriel had his hood up over his head to protect his eyes from the beating sun as the heat simmered the dusty dirt road that wound its way through the oak and ash forest that Gabriel found himself in.

The trotting of hooves was quite monotonous by this point so Gabriel decided that it was time to take a rest, both for his sake and the horse's. There was a creek up on his right through the brush that was well shaded and could serve as a good place to water the horse and cool himself down. So he steered his stallion over to the right and easily guided the horse to the creek and dismounted.

The road so far had been dull to say the least, not one time did Gabriel get to fight off bandits or thugs that plagued the roads of the nation. So he was itching to fight something and watched for any opportunity to do so. As his horse drank from the running stream Gabriel caught sight of something odd, smoke.

"What have we here?" the young Assassin grinned, sensing an opportunity to get some excitement.

He leapt onto a tree trunk that had fallen into the water and bounded his way over to the opposite bank. Hopping onto a rock Gabriel immediately saw a lot of foot prints in the dirt banks leading to a trail that went right at the source of the smoke. Letting his curiosity get the better of him Gabriel crept into the thick brush and towards the site of the encampment. Once there he saw a fairly good sized campsite, well provisioned with numerous crates, boxes, and barrels. It reeked of whiskey and gun powder coupled with the smoldering camp fire.

_No one's home, guess there's no harm in looking around._

He gingerly walked into the campsite, walking towards the nearest of a half dozen tents. What he found inside the tent sent one thrilling conclusion into his mind, bandits. Gabriel saw a wealth of gold and silver stashed into the single tent. There were candle holders, coins, jewelry, and other valuable objects. Gabriel immediately went back into stealth mode, working his way back into the concealment of the green brush.

Better get up high, he thought, seeing a large oak that suited him fine he ran and pulled himself up into the branches and started moving. He followed a well-worn trail out of the campsite and started listening for any incriminating sounds. But before he found the pack of bandits he came across a road. There was a large tree at a bend in the road as it came up from around an unseen bend that masked its presence until whoever was traveling that road came upon it. There were large boulders and rocks on the sides of the road, forming the perfect ambush position. It was here that Gabriel knew he would find these bandits.

However, before he could locate them, the loud rattling of a carriage and the pounding of hooves came from around the bend. Gabriel caught the unmistakable shine of gold and red and blue through the leaves and branches. There was no mistaking what was about to happen here, and Gabriel immediately put his senses into overdrive looking to find these bandits before they struck.

_Where are they?!_ He screamed in his mind as the decorated, and escorted carriage pulled around the corner. It was obviously a wealthy person's carriage, the wood had a shine to it, there were red curtains in its windows behind glass panes, and a driver in a fine suit sat rigid in a green plush seat. Eight American Dragoons escorted the carriage from with four in front and four behind. Their blue uniforms were pressed and clean with black horsehair decorated helmets holding a puffy white feather. Their silver sword scabbards glistened and all of their equipment rattled loudly.

"Halt!" the lead Dragoon called, immediately forcing the whole procession to stop in place.

"Break out some axes lads, cut it up and move on."

The Dragoons in the rear of the column dismounted as the cab driver leaned down and spoke something to his passengers. But it was that moment that the ambush Gabriel was searching for was sprung. Musket shots erupted on both sides of the carriage, putting out a wall of smoke. Every Dragoon in the rear of the column was struck by a ball and fell to the ground without knowing they were under attack. Two of the Dragoons in the lead were hit and fell from their horses as their comrades tried desperately to control their own animals and pulled out their sidearms. One of them fired a shot into the brush over his shoulder, striking a tree harmlessly as his partner dismounted and took cover behind the tree only to lurch forward when another bullet hit him in the back. The driver tumbled out of his seat when three shots struck him in the chest and gut, the carriage rocked with the sudden loss of weight along with the passenger's screaming. The last Dragoon attempted to pull out his carbine as he too dismounted and ran to defend the carriage but a final musket shot ended his life and he collapsed onto the dusty earth with a bullet in his heart.

The smoke was still thick as Gabriel stared in horror at what he just witnessed, then whoops and shouts echoed from the bush as the murderers emerged triumphant from their hiding spots. They were dressed in all manner of clothing, holding a mishmash of weapons as they sauntered out of the woods to collect their bounty.

"Take what you want boys, we're celebrating tonight!" a big man leading them with a musket on his shoulder hollered.

_No you're not._

Gabriel dropped from to another tree without a noise and looked right towards the road, he instinctively counted up his foes, fifteen, and formulated his attack. He would need to get them to expend their weapons so he could move in. For this he grabbed onto one of the rope darts in his pouch. He grabbed the steel blade and took one more breath before lashing out with one mighty throw. He saw the heavy dart loop itself around the neck nearest man as he looted the body of one of the Dragoons and then grabbed the other end and stepped back off the tree limb and to the ground. The man screamed loudly as he flew upwards into the trees and strangled, right in the line of sight of his friends.

"What the Hell was that?!" one of the bandits swore as he watched his friend struggle to breath as he squirmed in the air.

Gabriel drew his bow and grabbed an arrow and leaned out from behind a tree, aiming at the farthest of the bandits. With one smooth draw he loosed the arrow and saw it hit the man right where it counted. The man cried out as the arrow hit him in the chest, and fell back onto the ground. One of the bandits had seen the arrow fly past his head and instinctively fired a panicked shot into the brush.

"There! Fire!" one of them shouted as he pulled the trigger of his own musket and fired another musket ball into the brush. Several others began to fire as well, aiming at the shadow of Gabriel as he sprinted from tree to tree, loosing another arrow that struck another bandit square in the neck, making the man spurt blood as he writhed on the ground. By now the smoke was extremely thick, making aiming at the bandits almost impossible.

"Where are they?"

"I don't see them!"

"Spread out! Don't bunch up!" the big man, obviously the leader ordered them.

Instantly Gabriel knew he had them, and took his chance. He wrapped his bow back onto his back and drew flicked his wrists back, feeling the blades unsheathe themselves. He saw the shadows of two of the bandits and sprinted directly at them, before they could scream Gabriel threw his right arm across the closer man's throat, cutting it and sending blood coursing through the wound, and spun, driving his left blade into the second man's chest, shoving him back onto the ground and sprinted up into the brush as several more of the bandits rushed to see what had happened.

"Oh God, what are they?" one of the bandits choked out.

"Get a hold of yourself," one of his buddies hissed.

Gabriel picked out his next target, and sprinted again, plunging both of his blades into the man's back and shoved him onto the dirt as he ran back into the brush. By now Gabriel felt the warmth of blood on his hands as he calculated his next move. He was doing it, he was using his training to full effect and was seeing how easily he was able to kill these men and then disappear back into the shadows. Gabriel decided that now was the time to strike the killing blow, the bandits had begun to bunch up at the back of the carriage and had spent their shots. They were vulnerable.

"Show yourself you coward!" a bandit shouted, his own voice dripping with fear as he held his empty musket.

Gabriel maneuvered himself once again, placing himself ten feet away from the remaining nine trembling bandits. Gabriel sheathed his blades and grasped his two pistols and quickly cocked the handles back and aimed at the center of the group of men. He fired the two pistols one after the other and sprinted right at them with his tomahawk drawn and his left blade out of its holder to use as a knife. Gabriel brought the razor sharp tomahawk down on the closest bandit's head and spun as he swung the knife and stabbed another one through the back of the neck. He then brought up another uppercut right into the chest of another man, killing him and spun out of the circle of bandits. All five bodies collapsed, and the rest of the bandits whirled around and saw Gabriel standing with weapons drawn, ready to finish them off. Two of the bandits roared at Gabriel and charged headlong at him, attack blindly with their muskets. Gabriel blacked the man on the left with the tomahawk sending him off balance and brought a hammer blow down on his spine with the knife and shoved the body at the other attacker who tripped over it, rolling to Gabriel's feet where a tomahawk blow crashed down on his chest. The other two men, including the leader attacked as well, with the smaller man leading the way. He tried to chop at Gabriel with his musket, but he easily, rolled underneath the attack and was killed instantly by Gabriel landing his tomahawk into his spine.

_One to go_, Gabriel thought, slyly smirking as he saw the furious bandit stare at him. The leader looked around desperately until he saw the body of an American Dragoon on the ground next to him, and dropped his rifle and drew the dead man's saber.

"Come on then!" the guy growled, assuming a poor fighting position.

Gabriel decided now was the time to draw his sword for this final kill, sheathed his weapons quickly and then drew his own saber and started walking towards the trembling angry bandit. As he drew closer the man charged at him slashing wildly. Gabriel parried the powerful, slicing down cutting his calves, and spun the man around. Gabriel then pulled back and thrust one last blow of his sword into the man's back, right where the heart was. Gabriel felt the life seep from the bandit's body and pulled the blade from his body and let his lifeless husk fall onto the dusty path.

"Rest in peace, scum," Gabriel growled as he surveyed the scene around him. Bodies now lay scattered in bloody puddles around the undamaged carriage. Gabriel saw the rear curtain move slightly as it was pulled tightly closed and then the suspension rocked as its passenger or passengers ducked down.

He walked towards the carriage to see if who he had saved was alright, and yanked out his arrows from the bodies of the men he had shot on the way. He arrived at the door of the carriage and put his hand on the handle and gently twisted it feeling it unlatch and swing open. Before he was able to look into the cab a single loud pistol shot blasted the empty air of the doorway.

"Stay away!" a frightened female voice ordered fearfully, "I will shoot you."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "You have nothing to fear from me. You're safe."

"And how do I know that you just want to take all I have for yourself?" the girl yelled back.

"Because I would have already done so, please you can come out now."

Gabriel listened for a moment, but heard nothing, and finally decided to get the girl out himself, he didn't have time for this. He stepped into the doorway and froze, he instantly locked eyes with probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was young, that much was certain, but she seemed to be of the same age as Gabriel. Her hair was a golden blonde, and fell in gentle waves down her shoulders from underneath a fancy flowered hat. She wore a fancy white dress with blue patterns around the waist. Her eyes were a fine sapphire blue that were locked with Gabriel's. But in her hands was an empty flintlock pistol. Her hands were trembling, making the pistol quiver as it was pointed at him.

"It's alright, my name is Gabriel Dare," he tried to calm her by removing his hood, revealing his own face and held out a hand to her.

"Hannah, Hannah Manning," she responded lowering the pistol.

"Come on, we need to get out of here, now," Gabriel more firmly ordered her, beckoning strongly with his hand. Hannah took it and he pulled her from the cab, out into the clearing scene of death.

"They…they're…" Hannah stammered, seeing the bodies of her escorts, her driver, and her attackers. She dove her head into his chest to avert her eyes from the grisly scene. Her breaths were ragged and quick. Gabriel instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight.

"They're dead, all of them, I have a horse not far from here, I'll take you home," Gabriel said, dragging her through the brush, much to her displeasure.

Her dress caught on branches, thorns, and leaves at every turn, tearing it badly in some spots. Her shoes slowed them down quite a bit as Gabriel led the way towards where he had tied his horse. When he reached the campsite he stopped and put his hand to his mouth. With a solid breath he let out a loud high pitched whistle that Connor had taught him that horses respond to. Immediately Gabriel's horse trotted across the stream, and stood in front of him obediently. He quickly mounted up and extended a hand down to her.

"Here, get on."

"But I'm not dressed for riding, my dress it's ruined, my shoes are…" Hannah sputtered.

"Does any of that matter more than your life?" Gabriel responded testily.

Hannah bowed her head in resignation and took the offered hand and was yanked up roughly onto the horse. Gabriel immediately spurred the horse straight towards the road. In a very few seconds the horse galloped onto the road and sprinted straight towards the city that glistened in the afternoon sun off in the distance. She wrapped her arms around Gabriel's waist and held her head against his back, trying to keep from being hit in the face by the quiver of arrows and his bow.

It took less than an hour before Gabriel slowed the horse as they reached the outskirts of the city, and turned to his passenger.

"Hannah, where do you live, I'll take you there, and inform whoever is in charge of what happened," Gabriel said as Hannah looked at him.

"My father is Gregory Manning, the…"

"The Secretary of State?" Gabriel asked, quite shocked.

"Yes, my father's mansion is just down the street from where the White House used to be," Hannah replied weakly.

Gabriel nodded and spurred the horse forward as a column of soldiers in their fine blue uniforms marched by, bayonets fixed. By now they were in the heart of the city, dozens of people whispered in hushed tones as they saw the two young riders moving at a brisk pace through the streets towards the manor of the Secretary of State. Gabriel spurred the horse faster past the nearly rebuilt White House, the Capitol Building, and numerous gawking Senators, Congressmen, and Federal Employees. But soon enough Gabriel rounded a corner and halted his horse at the red brick house that was hers.

The manor was large and luxurious, white stone pillars went from the porch to the third story roof all across the face of the building. A great many windows were spread out evenly on all three floors. A fancy garden bordering the path to the building was blooming with rose petals, daisies, and tulips. Large live oaks over hung the area, providing a great deal of shade. Fine furniture was set up on the white painted wood floor of the reach around porch. And a small buggy was parked on the pathway hitched to a large stallion, ready for use.

"Hannah, you're home, here," Gabriel quickly dismounted, helping the now weak and faint lady off of the horse. She was having trouble just standing up straight, much less walking up the stairs.

"I'm…I'm home?" she whispered, but suddenly fainted, going totally and completely limp.

She fell into Gabriel's arms, and instantly he felt himself grow a little hot under the collar. _Now what? I can't bring her in there like this! Her father would have me killed!_

But the unmistakable cock of flintlock hammers being locked into place on loaded muskets immediately made Gabriel freeze, and the cold steel of bayonets poking his back sent shivers up his spine.

_Shit. _

**Next Chapter Preview: A typical Washington D.C. welcome.**


End file.
